Native Life in South Africa [60]
then coolly pocketing the pistol, he cycled down to the school, called out his two children, shot them down in cold blood, and retired to a quiet place where he put an end to his own life. During that fateful week in which disaster followed disaster in rapid succession, there occurred the following, namely, the colliery disaster at Cardiff, which left a thousand dependents without breadwinners, to say nothing of the damage to property, which is estimated at over 100,000 Pounds. There were also railway accidents and aviation disasters, causing damage to life and property. There were commercial troubles due to the Johannesburg strike in July, and this effect of the strike indicates the influence exercised by the "golden city" over South African commerce. In that sad upheaval in the labour world many innocent people lost their lives and property, and unfortunately, as is always the case, besides adding largely to the taxpayers' burdens, seriously affected people who had nothing to do with the strike. Yet when some of our friends expressed thankfulness that the year did not have thirteen months, we were obstinate enough to refuse to waste valuable time in considering the subject.
Individuals, like communities, suffered heavily from one cause or another in the year 1913. Thus the writer's little family also had its baptism of sorrow. On New Year's Day of that year 1913, his little boy, a robust child of three months, was prattling in the house. He first saw the light in the last quarter of 1912, on the very day we opened and christened our printing office, so we named him after the great inventor of printing type: he was christened Johann Gutenberg. Somehow or other he could never keep well after the New Year, for though he tried to look pleasant, it was visibly under serious difficulties. It had been our fortune, during a married life of fifteen years, to keep our children in remarkably good health; but the health of this little fellow showed unmistakable evidence that this immunity was reaching its end. Vehement attacks of whooping cough now overtook the little ones. The others got rid of it during the winter months, but with Gutenberg the disease developed into inflammation of this organ, and of that; and taking the whole year from January to December, it would not be too much to say that the little boy scarcely enjoyed three full months of good health. And by the end of the year it was clear that he was going the way of half a dozen cousins who were gathered into eternity all during one month -- December, 1913. Before the New Year was a week old, the doctor, who had then become a regular member of the family, gave us the final warning.
For a month past loving aunts had tenderly relieved the child's inexperienced parents of the daily ministrations and of the more exacting night watches. After the doctor's warning there came "the calm before the storm". It only lasted for one day; the deceptive strength which had temporarily buoyed the little patient up was now passing away and the inevitable reaction was setting in. Oh, if he were only a year older so that he could have communicated to us by speech his feelings and his wants! His little body, which stood the long sickness with such fortitude, got frail. His bright eyes, high forehead and round cheeks remained, however, to defy the waste of the disease. The parson came and uttered words of encouragement. "Symptoms of death," he said, pointing to the sick-bed (and he was no novice in such matters) "were very far from there," but the surroundings of the sick-bed seemed to us to ring out the command with a force as strong as six peals of thunder, saying "Suffer little children to come unto Me," and such Divine orders, comprehensible only to those to whom they are issued, took precedence of any words of encouragement that may be uttered by a mortal minister of religion. That these good men of God know the ways of their Master is patent in that they always couple the encouragement to the sick, or to the friends of the sick, with the advice to surrender to the Divine
Individuals, like communities, suffered heavily from one cause or another in the year 1913. Thus the writer's little family also had its baptism of sorrow. On New Year's Day of that year 1913, his little boy, a robust child of three months, was prattling in the house. He first saw the light in the last quarter of 1912, on the very day we opened and christened our printing office, so we named him after the great inventor of printing type: he was christened Johann Gutenberg. Somehow or other he could never keep well after the New Year, for though he tried to look pleasant, it was visibly under serious difficulties. It had been our fortune, during a married life of fifteen years, to keep our children in remarkably good health; but the health of this little fellow showed unmistakable evidence that this immunity was reaching its end. Vehement attacks of whooping cough now overtook the little ones. The others got rid of it during the winter months, but with Gutenberg the disease developed into inflammation of this organ, and of that; and taking the whole year from January to December, it would not be too much to say that the little boy scarcely enjoyed three full months of good health. And by the end of the year it was clear that he was going the way of half a dozen cousins who were gathered into eternity all during one month -- December, 1913. Before the New Year was a week old, the doctor, who had then become a regular member of the family, gave us the final warning.
For a month past loving aunts had tenderly relieved the child's inexperienced parents of the daily ministrations and of the more exacting night watches. After the doctor's warning there came "the calm before the storm". It only lasted for one day; the deceptive strength which had temporarily buoyed the little patient up was now passing away and the inevitable reaction was setting in. Oh, if he were only a year older so that he could have communicated to us by speech his feelings and his wants! His little body, which stood the long sickness with such fortitude, got frail. His bright eyes, high forehead and round cheeks remained, however, to defy the waste of the disease. The parson came and uttered words of encouragement. "Symptoms of death," he said, pointing to the sick-bed (and he was no novice in such matters) "were very far from there," but the surroundings of the sick-bed seemed to us to ring out the command with a force as strong as six peals of thunder, saying "Suffer little children to come unto Me," and such Divine orders, comprehensible only to those to whom they are issued, took precedence of any words of encouragement that may be uttered by a mortal minister of religion. That these good men of God know the ways of their Master is patent in that they always couple the encouragement to the sick, or to the friends of the sick, with the advice to surrender to the Divine